Thirty Years of Birthdays
by goji1995
Summary: Two Parter: After forty long years of estrangement, Stan decides it is time to reconnect with his brother. He decides to meet Ford in the kitchen for a long overdue catch-up.
1. Chapter 1

Thirty Years of Birthdays

Stan Pines woke in the early hours of the morning. How early exactly, he wasn't sure, but with the back pains kicking in early today, he didn't think it likely that he was going to go back to sleep.

"Alright, let's get this over with" he grunted. Slowly but surely he wrangled his aged body into a sitting position. He put on his glasses and checked his bedside alarm clock.

"Four in the morning? You call that sleep?" he said.

He lowered himself out of bed, placing his feet in his slippers and putting on his dressing gown. As he groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he went to open the curtains of his room and gazed out at the early morning sun peering over the surrounding forest.

"Today", he said. "Today is gonna be one of those days". He left his room and headed downstairs. By the sound of it, nobody else had yet stirred. The kids were still asleep up in the attic room, and Ford was still down in the basement, though whether or not he was asleep or not, who could say. He very rarely seemed to sleep, he mostly stayed at work in the underground lab. Stan let out a noise halfway between a grunt and a snort at the thought of his obsessive brother. Reaching the kitchen, he made coffee for himself, then took a seat at the table, idly staring into the mug of coffee. He was glad that he had the kitchen to himself right now, he needed a little peace and quiet for a while, after the dreams. He wondered whether it was truly his back pain that had woken him up, or the very same dreams that now had him melancholically staring deep into his cup.

They had been restless ones, that was for sure. He had seen a long stretch of a Jersey beach, backed by a town that had been a blur, yet he knew to be Glass Shard Beach, his childhood home. The whole world had seemed faintly alien in his dream, slightly abstract somehow, and yet all so familiar. There he had seen two young boys sitting side by side in silence. Though they were faced away from Stan, he knew somehow that they were enjoying one another's company. Then, it seemed that the entire universe tore in two, as a gaping mass of nothingness split everything in half. The two halves drifted away from each other, yet somehow the boys remained motionless, not even trying to reach one another. Slowly, each half of the world had vanished in shreds, until there was nothing left but darkness. Stan tried to put thoughts of this dream aside as he sipped at his coffee, hoping it would rouse him from this annoyingly reflective state. Reflection hadn't been easy for Stan Pines, not for forty years anyway, especially the last thirty. All it did was remind of broken bonds, dreams and homes.

Try as he might though, dreams like this had troubled him a lot more over the weeks since his brother had returned, and he was getting sick of it.

"So what if the old nerd doesn't forgive you", he growled out loud. "You got him back home, ain't that enough?"

Though he got only silence in return, Stan continued.

"Yeah, I know, I'm all talk".

He sighed deeply. He was going to have to quit stalling and do it. It wouldn't be all that long before the kids went home, and he'd be out on his ass again, if Ford got his way. It was time to talk to his brother.

For the next few hours, Stan paced back and forth around the house, thinking things through. No matter what way he looked at it, this wasn't going to be any less difficult. It was half anxiety at the mere thought of trying to reconnect with his estranged brother, and half his own stubbornness. Why should I make an effort? he thought to himself. I spent thirty long years trying to get his ungrateful ass back in this universe, so now it's his turn to show some effort. But try as he might, he couldn't get himself to listen to his stubborn side, something he normally did with ease.

"Damn it all", he said.

Eventually he returned to the kitchen and tried to take his mind off it by reading the copy of The Gravity Falls Gossiper currently occupying the table, but try as he might, nothing seemed to ease his mind. Eventually, by about eight, he heard footsteps from upstairs as the kids woke up. He was glad to be getting the company. He'd needed his alone time, but now he had spent a little too much time sitting down here alone, stewing in anxiety and paranoia, thinking and rethinking his plans for the day.

"Yeesh, I'm startin' to feel like Dipper", the old man said, chuckling heartily to himself. A few minutes later, the twins came down, the sounds of their usual morning chatter growing steadily closer.

"Mabel, you can't just redefine words like that", Dipper said.

"Maybe you can't", Mabel replied. "Mabel does what she likes with words. I don't need no dictionary to tie me down".

"You're a hopeless case", Dipper laughed as the two of them entered the kitchen, Waddles happily trotting along behind them.

"Morning, Grunkle Stan", the two of them rang out in unison.

Stan gave them his morning grunt of greeting as he pretended to take interest in a story in the Gossiper, avoiding eye contact with the two. Mabel had an uncanny knack for knowing when her brother was stressed or anxious in the way that only twins can, and he didn't need her turning such skills on himself. He'd rather keep it private, for now at least.

Dipper grabbed himself some orange juice and sat at the table, taking out a notepad and pen and immediately beginning to scrawl notes and equations in it.

"Geez, bro-bro, you've been up all of five minutes and you're already being a dork", Mabel teased, as she poured herself a glass of her own nightmarish concoction, Mabel Juice, a drink that Stan was sure would send any normal human being into a sugar coma at the first sip.

"Just making some plans for today's monster hunt with great uncle Ford", Dipper said as he gnawed the end of his pen, his usual thinking habit. "We've got the trap pretty well figured out, but I think I can improve it if I just make a few teensy adjustments".

"Well, I'm gonna make some pancakes. You want some Dipper, or are you just gonna eat that pen for breakfast?" she laughed.

"Sure thing", Dipper said absent mindedly as he scribbled out an unsuccessful note.

"Do you want some, Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked.

"Nah, I ain't hungry", Stan said absentmindedly, not really paying attention.

"Are you sure? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day", Mabel chided.

Stan shook his head no and took another sip of coffee. For the next few minutes, Mabel cooked a series of pancakes for herself and Dipper, humming cheerfully as she did, her hyperactivity levels rapidly rising thanks to the unholy effects of Mabel Juice. Stan eyed the substance, staring at the plastic stegosaurus currently sitting in Mabel's glass. He shuddered at the mere thought of the stuff. Not long after, Ford emerged from the basement, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Morning, family", he groaned.

"Morning", all three of the others replied.

"Oh, sorry Grunkle Ford", Mabel said through a mouthful of pancakes and syrup. "I just finished making pancakes, I didn't think to wait for you first".

"That's quite alright", Ford replied, "I was up most of last night, so I'm not really in the mood for something sweet as is".

He popped some bread in the toaster, then came to stand by Dipper, looking at his notes.

"You making some adjustments to the plan?" Ford said.

"Yep", Dipper replied, "I just figured it might go a little more smoothly if we change a few things. See for yourself".

Dipper handed his great uncle his notes. Ford scanned what to Stan was a confusing maze of gibberish and nonsense.

"Yes, that does make sense", Ford said. "I think you might be right on this one, Dipper".

Stan remained silent as the morning progressed further. The twins finished their pancakes, Ford ate his toast and drank his coffee. Dipper, Mabel and Ford chatted happily amongst themselves, but Stan remained relatively silent.

"Grunkle Stan, are you all right?" Mabel asked as Ford and Dipper went to prepare their equipment. "You've barely talked all morning".

"Yeah, I'm fine kid", he lied. "Just not in a talkative mood is all, you know?"

Mabel eyed him suspiciously, but went back to her knitting for now. He'd got off easy this time, but he knew he'd be pressed again later. Not that it mattered; he needed to ask Mabel for some help anyway. Eventually Dipper and Ford returned from their preparations, hauling a massive load of equipment out to the back yard, Dipper doing his best to help with the dragging despite his noodle arms. When they had loaded the equipment into the pickup truck borrowed from Soos, the two of them returned to the house.

"Alright, we're heading off now", Ford said.

"You still sure you don't wanna come, Mabel?" Dipper said.

Stan tensed up a little. If Mabel changed her mind now, it'd put a hamper on his plans.

"Nuh-uh, today's a Mabel day", she said. "No freaky monsters for me today, just relaxation, knitting, and spending time with my favourite pig in the whole world", she continued, giving an affectionate pat to Waddles, who oinked appreciatively.

"Okay, well see you later sis", Dipper said cheerfully.

"Catch you later, Dippingsauce", she replied.

"We should be back before five", Ford said. "Goodbye for now".

"Bye Grunkle Ford", Mabel called as the two departed.

Stan gave a farewell grunt.

For a while, Stan and Mabel sat in silence, Mabel continuing the knitting of her latest sweater. Stan was about to bring up what he wanted to ask her, but before he could, she spoke up.

"Sooooooooo. What's bugging you Grunkle Stan?"

She stared at him hopefully.

"It's nothing", Stan said. He had no idea why he was lying, he had to tell her what he had planned sooner or later. He guessed it was just plain old stubborn habit.

"Come on, you know you can't hide it from me forever", Mabel said.

Stan took a deep breath.

"I'm planning to talk to my brother tonight", he said at last, "or at least I'm gonna try".

Mabel let out a delighted squeal as her smile broadened to its greatest length.

"Does this mean you're finally gonna patch things up!?" she said.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, kid", Stan said, trying in vain to calm Mabel's excitement. "But I'm just thinking, it's gonna have to happen sooner or later. Ever since he got back, I've wanted to at least talk to him, tell him what's happened these last thirty years at the very least. But in all this time, we've barely spoken. Even when we sit in the same room together, it seems like we don't even look at each other. So tonight, I'm gonna get that poindexter to come and sit up here with me whether he likes it or not, and I'm gonna try to talk to him".

Mabel was practically bouncing in her seat.

"So that's why you've been so quiet", she said excitedly, "You've been worrying about tonight, haven't you?"

"Pretty much, yeah", Stan conceded.

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh, our two Grunkles talkin' it out at long last".

"Hey, don't get too excited", Stan said, "as far as I'm aware, we might not say a word to each other all night".

"Don't be like that Grunkle Stan, I'm sure you'll make some progress at least. So what's your plan?"

"Actually, that's where you come in", Stan said.

"You… You want my help?" Mabel said.

"Well, I have a certain idea in mind, and, well, what I have planned, I don't really have the skills to make. So I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in making a little something to help me out".

Mabel's grin broadened even further. Already Stan could see the creative spark coming to life in her eyes. It looked like she was sold.

* * *

Late that afternoon, Dipper and Ford finally returned from their hunt. As they approached the shack, dragging a slimy black creature along behind them, chatting and laughing, they were met by the sight of Stan and Mabel sat on the porch couch, Stan drinking a can of Pitt cola, Mabel idly playing with Waddles, clearly a little sluggish from the heat.

"Hi bro-bro, hi Grunkle Ford", she cheerfully greeted the two of them.

"Hey", Dipper said.

"Hello again family", Ford said happily.

"Oh Christ, what even is that thing?" Stan said, addressing the unconscious monster.

"It's a Vexilated Strandulum", Ford explained as they reached the porch. "It's an elusive creature, but we found it without too much difficulty".

"Well just looking at it disgusts me", Stan said. "Too many tentacles and fangs for my liking. Please don't tell me that you're bringin' that thing into the house", Stan groaned.

"Sorry, Stan", Ford said apologetically, "but it's important for my research. Don't worry, I'll keep it contained once we've got it in the basement. It sleeps most of the time anyway".

"Well, whatever", Stan said. "Just don't make too much of a mess with the damn thing".

"We'll make sure to clean up the slime when we're done", Dipper said, heaving with all his might to get the nightmarish abomination up the steps. "It'll probably still make the floors glow in the dark for a few days, but that'll go away pretty quickly".

Together, the two of them dragged the creature through the shack, and finally into the basement, where they put it in a thick tank full of translucent purple ooze. Afterwards, Dipper went back to the attic bedroom to lie on his bed for a while and unwind. He took a deep breath and stretched all his limbs out. It wasn't long, however, before Mabel burst into the room, Waddles held under one arm.

"DIPPERDIPPERDIPPERDIPPERDIPPERDIPPERDIPPER!" she yelled joyously.

He sat bolt upright in an instant.

"What is it?" he inquired.

"It's amazing", she cried, throwing herself on the end of Dipper's bed. "Grunkle Stan is finally gonna talk to Grunkle Ford".

"Woah, really?" Dipper said. "I'm surprised that he's taking action all of a sudden like that".

"I know right. Our Grunkles might finally get along again".

"Don't be too hasty sis", Dipper said. "I mean even if they do talk to each other, it probably won't be an instant fix. I mean remember, they have forty years' worth of resentment and anger and such"…

"Oh PFFFT", Mabel said, blowing a raspberry. "Don't be so negative bro-bro, they might make some real progress".

"Yeah, but don't get your hopes up too high Mabel. I'm happy about it too, but don't get yourself too worked up for something that might not happen".

"Don't ruin this moment for me Dipper", Mabel said. "You're too much of a worrywart. Bap", she added as she poked the end of his nose. "Just chill a little, broseph".

"Yeah, maybe you're right", Dipper replied, laughing as he repeatedly poked Mabel back.

"Oh, it's so on now", Mabel said, and began poking her brother relentlessly. He returned the barrage as the two of them burst out into giggles.

* * *

As the rest of the day wore on, the four of them enjoyed a pleasant dinner together before Ford returned to the basement for further study of the newly captured monster. Just before he entered the passageway, he was tapped on the shoulder. Turning around, he was met by Stan. The two of them paused awkwardly for a few moments. It was always awkward when the two of them were alone together.

"Listen, Stanford", Stan said. "It's time we talk".

Ford paused to push up his glasses before saying,

"About what?"

"I don't know exactly. All I know is, you've been back for a few weeks now, and we've barely even spoken. We need to catch up a little, at the very least".

Ford paused for a very long time, before taking a deep sigh.

"Well, I suppose it would be worth a try", he eventually said.

"Okay", Stan said. "Meet me in the kitchen at about eleven tonight. I wanna make sure the kids are asleep before we talk, this ought to be just between the two of us".

Ford nodded, and the two men departed, Stan heading back into the house, and Ford descending into the basement once more.

* * *

That night, Dipper lay wide awake in bed, tossing and turning. Try as he might, sleep was eluding him tonight. Finally, he gave up, tutting loudly at himself. On nights when his brain was overactive, his thoughts would never shut up and it'd take him far too long to sleep.

Picking up his blanket, he headed downstairs and set himself in the big yellow armchair in the living room. He lay down in the large chair, draping his blanket over himself and turning on the TV. Nothing better to distract him from overactive thoughts than a bit of mindless TV. He flicked through a few channels before settling on a late night, 1950s Alien Invasion movie.

He casually watched the B-Movie, and slowly his thoughts began to calm down, and he started to feel sleepier. As his eyelids began to droop, the living room door opened up again. Looking over he saw that Mabel had entered the room.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" Dipper said.

"Nope", she said. "And it looks like we had the same idea, too".

"Put it down to twin synchronisation, I suppose", Dipper said, and the two of them chuckled.

"Room under there for one more?" she said, addressing the blanket.

Dipper wedged himself to one side of the armchair to make room and patted the empty space beside him. Mabel got under the blanket and settled herself on the other side of the chair, laying down as well. The two of them were slightly squished in, but it was comfortable enough an arrangement. They continued to watch the invasion movie, both of them slowly becoming sleepier. Eventually, Dipper grew tired of propping his head up, and simply lay down and closed his eyes, listening rather than watching. Mabel fairly quickly did the same.

"Hey Dipper", she chimed in.

"Yeah?"

"How do you think it'll go tonight with the Stans?"

"I really have no idea", Dipper said. "I guess I just don't have enough of a gauge on their relationship to even guess what it'll be like. And besides, I thought you were the one who was all super positive about the whole thing. Why ask me now?"

"That was daytime Mabel", she replied. "This is sleepytime Mabel. They have different think-y methods".

"You mean different states of mind", Dipper said.

"Sleepytime Mabel doesn't care", she mumbled sleepily.

"Neither would daytime Mabel", Dipper said, and the two of them chortled. Soon, a great wave of drowsiness overcame over the two of them, and they slowly drifted away into sleep.

* * *

The shack swiftly came back into view as Stan emerged from the trees. He had taken a night stroll to help calm his nerves, and though it had taken the edge off, he was still definitely anxious about this. "This is ridiculous", he said, thinking out loud. "So what if it doesn't go well? It'll just stay the same as it already is. Can't exactly go downhill from that trainwreck".

Reaching the entrance to the shack, he almost entered, but then changed his mind. He leaned his head against the wall.

"Come on Stan, yer better than this", he muttered. "Since when are you scared to go talk to your nerd of a brother?"

He curled his hands into fists, willing himself to go onwards. Slowly, he removed his head from the wall and entered the shack.

"That's right you old so and so, just dive into it".

Slowly he was feeling his morale return to him. Even if this little chat went disastrously, it still needed to be done. He made his way towards the kitchen. It was a little over ten minutes before eleven, and he knew that his brother wouldn't arrive early. Stanford had always liked to arrive at exactly the right time, for family events at least. He supposed that this did count as a family event of sorts. As he approached the kitchen, he heard noise from the living room that sounded like some kind of movie. It looked like the kids had left the TV on, unusual considering Dipper's pinpoint observational skills.

He detoured into the room and saw that it wasn't unoccupied as he had thought that it would be. The twins lay side by side under a blanket on the armchair, both of them fast asleep. The sight brought some warmth to his pessimistic heart. The kids always did. He went to sit on the arm of the chair and looked down at the two of them. He generally didn't let on just how much affection he had for the two, but now that they were asleep, he allowed himself to crack a soppy smile at the sight of them.

For thirty years he had lived alone now, and during that time he had always felt the bite of loneliness. But during his summer of playing caretaker for the two of them, that loneliness had been gone. He would certainly miss their company when the summer came to an end. Whether the twins were aware of that or not, he did not know.

They strongly reminded him of himself and Ford as kids. They had been best friends just the way these two were. That all seemed such a long time ago now, and he supposed it was, what with forty years having passed since the two were on good terms, but it felt even longer. Without his twin brother, he had never truly felt whole all these years, and he didn't care if that sounded sappy. He just hoped against hope that Dipper and Mabel didn't meet the same fate that he and Stanford had. He didn't think he could stand it if they did.

He spent the last ten minutes watching the end of the corny Alien Invasion movie on the TV, the saucers crashing into an unconvincing miniature city, the explosions lighting up the strings that the filmmakers had made no effort to hide. Ford had loved these sorts of movies when they were growing up; he'd always had a fascination with the supernatural, long before he ever came to Gravity Falls.

He remembered the nights when the two of them would sneak to their own childhood living room to stay up late watching such flicks. Stan wasn't sure that anything had ever felt longer ago than those times. Finally, the movie came to an end as the two protagonists gave a ridiculous and poorly acted speech about humanity, and then finally kissed one another, with a big THE END, emblazoned over it. Stan rolled his eyes at the corniness of the ending, but then he saw that the clock had turned to eleven; it was time.

Glancing down at the kids one more time, he affectionately ruffled their hair before switching the TV off. Leaving the living room behind, he placed a hand on the kitchen door.

"Alright Stan Pines, you can do this", he muttered to himself.

Slowly, he pushed the door open and entered the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

THIRTY YEARS OF BIRTHDAYS

PART TWO

Stan entered the room silently, and at first he didn't even look up. He very slowly closed the kitchen door, paused for a moment, then finally turned around to face him. Ford was sat at the kitchen table, tapping his fingers together and avoiding eye contact. Stan sighed deeply before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table.

For a few painfully awkward minutes, both of them remained silent. Come on Stan, say something, he urged himself. For Christ's sake, just say something, anything.

"What exactly is the point of this, Stanley?" Ford said, breaking the silence.

"Whaddya mean, what's the point?" Stan replied, finding himself almost immediately irate.

"Well, we've just being sitting here in silence", Ford said.

"You know, maybe this wasn't such a great idea", Stan growled. "We've been here all of five seconds together, and already yer gettin' on my nerves, poindexter".

"Getting on YOUR nerves? You're the one who dragged me away from my research for this pointless meeting. We're already bickering, and frankly I don't know how you expected anything else".

"Yeah, well maybe I wanted to make an effort", Stan said, his voice growing louder. "Actually try to have the first decent conversation with my brother in forty goddamn years".

"And what makes you think that we're just going to have a friendly chat, knucklehead?" Ford said, getting to his feet and slamming his hands on the table. "In case you've forgotten, I spent thirty years lost in another dimension because of you".

"And in case YOU'VE forgotten", Stan yelled, also rising to his feet and slamming his hands on the table, "I spent those thirty years trying to get you back".

"And nearly tore the universe apart in the process", Ford shot back.

The two of them leaned closer across the table until they were glaring in one another's faces. Suddenly, to Ford's surprise, Stan backed away and placed his face in his hands. He started to laugh exasperatedly.

"What's so funny", Ford said, but even so, he found his temper descending. He sat back in his chair, and as Stan continued to laugh, he found himself releasing a small chuckle too.

"Look at us", Stan said as he also returned to his seat. "We can't be alone for five minutes without having the same fight all over again".

"Yes, you're right", Ford sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We should at least try to be civil".

"Yeah, sorry", Stan said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Likewise", Ford replied.

For several more minutes, the two of them sat in a fresh silence, but thankfully it was a far less awkward one.

"Look, I got a little something for today", Stan said after a while. "Might help to take the edge off".

He went to the fridge and pulled out a six pack of beer.

"I normally wouldn't keep this stuff around the house while the kids are staying", Stan said, "but I figured tonight was a special case".

"Hmm, I haven't had a drink in well over thirty years", Ford said as he took a can. "Even before the whole portal incident, I became too paranoid to even think of letting my mind slip for a moment".

"Yeah, yeah, just drink the damn thing", Stan chuckled as he cracked open his own can and took a long glug. Ford did the same, but as he took a sip, he gagged, his face forming a disgusted frown. Stan snorted loudly.

"Can't handle yer drink, eh?" Stan teased.

"Hey, back off", Ford said, chuckling a little himself. "This stuff tastes disgusting after thirty years of abstinence".

"You'll get used to it", Stan said, taking another sip.

"Yes, I suppose I will", Ford said, taking another draught, his face still curling in disgust.

"So…", Ford began. "A lot must have happened during these thirty years. I suppose it's worth my while catching up a little. Mom and dad, are they…"

"Dead", Stan confirmed sadly.

"I suspected they might be", Ford said, sighing morosely. "What was it that… you know".

"The old man died from a heart attack", Stan said. "The doctors reckoned his smoking and drinking were probably behind it".

"Yes, he did seem a little too fond of his cigars", Ford said. "How was the funeral?"

Stan shrugged. "Didn't attend. I was supposed to be dead, remember? I gave an excuse on your behalf though", Stan added as Ford opened his mouth to object. "Said you were in hospital at the time".

"And what about mom?"

"She passed a few years later", Stan said. "I don't know the details too well, but it looks like a brain aneurism killed her. And before you ask, no, I didn't attend her funeral either. I couldn't risk being recognised by the family. I doubt I would have been welcome anyway".

"What makes you say that?"

"In case you forgot, they kicked me out, genius. They didn't want anything to do with me. I would have liked to have changed that, but, you know, circumstances and such".

"That wasn't your fault, you know", Ford said quietly.

"Huh?" Stan said, not hearing what he had said.

"Dad throwing you out".

Stan paused for a while, taking a long, slow sip from his beer.

"You're just saying that", he finally said.

"I'm not", Ford replied. "Dad was… dad was a terrible parent, Stanley. He was never any good to either of us. But you should know that mom wanted you back. She tried her best to find you. Whenever the subject of you came up, she'd glare daggers at dad, and sometimes I'd find her sat up alone at night looking at photos of you, just looking so… upset, and lost".

Stan ran his hand across his face.

"And I never even tried to call her", he said defeatedly. "I just always thought they were both ashamed of me. I didn't want to show up until I made something of myself".

Ford remained silent.

"What about all those commercials I was in?" Stan said. "Surely she saw me selling some of that cheap junk, there were always numbers to call".

"I don't think she ever did see them".

Yet another silence fell over them whilst Stan stewed with this new information. Slowly, they worked their way into their second beers of the evening, Ford already going a little red in the face.

"It was one of my biggest regrets", Stan said. "I should have made an effort to reconnect with the family instead of wasting my time trying to make a fortune that I was never gonna get. All that time I wasted and I could have tried to get my family back, ma at the least. Now I'll never get that chance again. God I'm an idiot".

"I didn't exactly make an effort with them either", Ford said. "Once I came to Gravity Falls, I saw them maybe twice over six years. I became too involved in my research, so I fell away from the family too. Have you kept contact with any of the family these thirty years?"

"A little", Stan said. "But only distantly. The kids' parents were the closest connections I had to the family. We always got along well, despite not seeing much of each other. That's why they sent the kids to live with me this summer. And now, having them around, it makes me regret all those wasted years even more".

"Well, it's never too late I suppose", Ford said as he cracked open his third beer. "I mean just look at how close you've gotten to the kids. They obviously mean a lot to you".

"Yeah, they do", Stan said. "Truth be told, having them around is the happiest I've been in thirty years. It's been lonely here all this time. While they're staying with me, this place doesn't feel so isolated anymore. It's good to have family back in my life again".

"What about when the summer's over", Ford inquired.

"I don't know", Stan sighed. "I don't even know where I'm gonna go when you kick me outta here".

Ford looked down at the table, feeling awkward and a little guilty.

"Just come and let me visit sometimes, eh?" Stan said. "I've grown attached to this old place, and even if we don't get along, I still wanna see you sometimes".

"Look, Stanley…" Ford began.

"Yeah, I know, wishful thinking, so on, so forth".

"No, that's not what I'm trying to get at. I just… I… Never mind. Let's… let's just move onto a different subject for now".

Stan nodded in agreement before finishing his third beer. He was starting to feel a little lightheaded, but Ford was beginning to look downright drunk. Stan plucked another six pack from the fridge.

"I don't know if I should", Ford said.

"Ahh, come on", Stan said mockingly, "we've barely started".

"Very well".

The two of them started on their forth cans.

"Stan, do you mind telling me", Ford said, hiccupping slightly. "What exactly is this whole… Internet thing? I hear the kids mention it from time to time, and it has me intrigued for certain".

Stan laughed.

"Oh man, I forgot how behind the times you are", he said. "I never really understood it properly myself, but the internet is a sort of, I don't know, information highway type of thingamajig. You look up whatever you want using a computer, and the internet'll get it for ya. Videos, music, information, basically anything, at least from what the kids have told me".

Ford looked impressed.

"Well I'll be damned", he said. "I guess that whole computer thing really was going somewhere. And after I always tried to discourage Fiddleford from spending time on them", he added guiltily.

"You know, he still lives in Gravity Falls", Stan said.

"He does?"

"Yeah, but he ain't much of a genius anymore. Old Man McGucket they call him these days, and he's about as much of a cook as can be".

"That must be the memory gun he invented", Ford said sadly. "He must have used it on himself so much that it tore his mind apart".

Ford leaned with his face in both hands. A rush of guilt and shame washed over him.

"Hey, cheer up there sixer", Stan said, patting him on the back.

"It's difficult to find cheer when reminiscing about such things", Ford said.

"Well then don't reminisce", Stan grunted. "It ain't easy for me to reminisce, that's for sure, so I try to avoid it as much as I can. I don't have anything but misery and mistakes to look back on, so what's the point in looking back?"

"You don't even look back to the good times? When we were kids?" Ford said, hiccupping again before taking a long glug from his can.

"I try not to", Stan said. "Sometimes I let myself think back to those times, but doing that just makes me remember how much the shit hit the fan later on. I never really forgave myself for what happened thirty years ago. It's always been too difficult to even try".

"If you think you regret your mistakes, then you should see my long list", Ford said. "So many mistakes unbecoming of my so called intelligence".

"Yeesh, relax, even a six fingered nerd like you can make mistakes you know".

"Hey, don't chide me about my regrets when you're the one sitting here wallowing in your mistakes".

"Oh, and there you go again, jumping at my throat the first chance you get", Stan said.

"Then don't be a hypocrite, Stanley".

"Oh, I'm so sorry for trying to look out for you", Stan snarled, crushing his beer can in his fist. "You're such a nitpicking nerd, you know that. You just want an excuse to attack me again. Well excuse me your highness".

"If I'm a nitpicking nerd, then you're an obnoxious idiot".

"Well maybe I am, but at least… we're doing it again", Stan said, his tone deflating immediately.

Ford took a deep breath.

"Yes, it would seem we are".

A brief silence permeated the air.

"Look, I uh… I had Mabel make a little something today", Stan said, walking over to a nearby cupboard. "Yer probably gonna laugh at me over this, but here goes…"

From the cupboard, he took out an enormous chocolate cake. It had Mabel written all over it, with various patterns in the frosting, plentiful sprinkles and a smiley face made of chocolate buttons. Thirty candles of various colours were placed on the cake. Stan brought it over and placed it down on the table. Ford looked at it with great confusion.

"What is this all about?" he asked.

"Look, truth be told… I've missed you ever since I got kicked out", Stan said. "I know I said I try not to think back to the times when we were kids, but I still do think back to those times more often than I like to admit, and I still miss those days, even though thinking about them makes me think of what came later. Without my twin brother, I've never really felt like a whole person since, and I know that sounds disgustingly sappy, but I don't care, it's true".

"Well, I…" Ford said, taken aback. "But, what does that have to do with this cake?"

"Because our birthday was the hardest day of all, genius", Stan said. "I missed you all the time, but when I'm alone on our birthday, it's the hardest of all. It makes me think about how things should have gone so differently. And it's just crushing spending that day without you, corny as that sounds. So even though it's nowhere near our birthday, I asked Mabel to make this for us, because I want it to represent the thirty years of birthdays that we missed. The thirty birthdays that I know would have been so different if I just hadn't made that one stupid mistake. See, thirty candles on this thing, one for each year".

Ford was at a loss for words. During the many years of being away, he had never known when it was their birthday, he'd had no way of knowing, and frankly he had never thought of it.

"I…" he began. "I don't know what to…"

"Then don't say anything, poindexter", Stan said. "Help me light these candles instead".

The two of them each took out a lighter, and together they ignited the thirty candles.

"It looks good", Ford said.

"Of course it does", Stan replied. "Pretty much anything Mabel creates does. You should see her, the kid has a real knack for the arts and crafts and such".

Without further ado, the two of them blew out the candles, not needing a countdown, but simply synchronising in the way that twins do. They each cut a piece and began to dig in. Ford's eyes lit up.

"Remind me to thank Mabel in the morning", he said. "This is fantastic".

"Yep, sure is", Stan said.

For a while, they said nothing, but sat in a harmonious silence, eating more slices of cake and drinking more and more beer. The two became steadily drunker, Ford getting to a point of swaying around a little, even sat down.

"You know", he slurred "maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all HIC", He hiccupped, but barely seemed to notice.

Stan belched loudly.

"Yeah, even you can use a break every now and then", he said. "You're always down in that… in that labra… laborna… lab", he concluded, deciding he was too drunk to say the whole word. "It ain't human I'm tellin' ya. You should rest sometimes, actually get some sleep".

"Yes, I suppose that would be the smart thing to do", Ford said. "Why don't I HIC, listen to you more often?"

"Yer only sayin' that cause yer drunk", Stan said. "Yer too stubborn when yer sober".

"Mm", Ford said, seemingly too lightheaded to argue. "And you know what, Stanley? You know what?"

"Whaddisit?" Stan slurred.

"Maybe it's worth working on our relationship, you know", Ford said. "I mean all we've done is argue and bicker ever since I got back. Tonight's the first time in forty years that we've had a real conversation. And look at this, we're actually talking civilly to one another. I just think… we've been through a lot, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to move on, you know".

He took a monster sized bite of cake while Stan formed his drunken thoughts into a sentence.

"I agree", he finally said. "I mean I didn't think we'd reach a point of actually agreeing with each other today, but yeah, whaddya know, I agree with ya".

Before either of them could say anything else, however, a loud crash burst out from somewhere in the house. The two of them snapped into focus immediately.

"Okay, so what the heck was that?" Stan said.

A loud, monstrous shriek erupted from the same place. Ford's eyes broadened in horror.

"You know how I said I was going to secure the Vexilated Strandulum?" he said.

"Oh for cryin' out loud", Stan said.

"Yes, well, it seems that it's smarter than I thought, because I think it just broke out", Ford said, confirming Stan's fears.

The two of them took one long look at each other, then raced out of the kitchen and sped through the house, knocking into a few things on their way due to their intoxicated state. Soon they burst into the Mystery Shack gift shop, and sure enough, something was slamming against the vending machine.

"We have to keep it contained", Ford yelled.

The two of them ran to try and hold the machine shut, but before they could reach it, it flew open and a massive black tangle of evil burst out of it, howling at the top of its… lungs? The Strandulum ran all around the room, trashing the gift shop in seconds. The creature was indescribable, it was a mess of sharp clawed limbs, excessive tentacles, and various mouths full of fangs, though the thing had no definable head or even eyes as far as Stan could see. In effect, the thing was 'what the heck?' incarnate.

"OKAY, NOW WHAT?" Stan roared, panicking.

Ford pulled out the laser gun that was constantly at his hip and fired off several blasts, hitting the creature and blasting a tentacle off of it. Mere seconds later though, the entire tentacle regenerated as the Strandulum burst through the door of the gift shop and headed outside.

"It's enraged, we can't let it escape", Ford said.

The two of them ran out after it and saw that the horrifying monster was now running around the house, lashing out at anything in its way.

"Don't let that thing get back in the house", Stan yelled.

The two of them raced after the creature, following it to the back yard. Stan picked up the woodcutter axe from the porch as Ford aimed a few more shots at the beast. It attempted to come back towards the house, but it was met by a charging Stan, who hacked off one of its flailing limbs with his axe. The Strandulum briefly howled in pain, but soon it grew the limb back and pounced on Stan, pinning him to the ground. Ford leapt on the creature, knocking it off his brother, but soon found himself wrapped up in its mass of tentacles. Ford let out a cry of pain as the tentacles crushed him tightly.

"Oh no you don't!" Stan yelled as he chopped off the tentacles holding Ford, who dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. The monstrosity decided that it had had enough, and swatted the both of them away with its tentacles. They landed hard several metres away, the crash sending Stan's back into agony.

"I am too freakin' old for this", he said as he slowly rose to his feet.

The creature had now taken an interest in Soos' pickup truck, crawling around on top of it and smashing the windows with its claws. Stan ran over to his still winded brother and gave him a hand, which Ford accepted gladly as he rose to his feet.

"Alright, smart guy", Stan said, "you know all about this supernatural junk, what weaknesses does this thing have?"

"Let me think, let me think", Ford said, rubbing his temple. Suddenly he snapped his fingers and said, "electricity, of course. Stan, we need to shoot this thing with about a hundred-thousand volts of electricity".

"Okay, and just how in the heck do we do that? Where do we get a hundred-thousand volts from?"

"The lab", Ford said. "Listen Stanley, I have something planned, but I need to go to the basement to get what I need. Can you keep this thing distracted for a few minutes?"

Stan nodded.

"I'll do whatever it takes to keep this thing away from the kids", he said.

Ford nodded in return, and after briefly patting his brother on the shoulder, he ran back inside. Stan directed his attention to the Vexilated Strandulum once again, which was now rolling the pickup truck over, battering the vehicle even further. Great, Stan thought, now I'm gonna have to pay for the repairs.

He watched the monster closely, walking to stand outside the porch with his axe raised. He hoped that it would remain distracted by the truck, but his hopes were shortly dashed when it lost interest in the vehicle and turned to face the house again. With frightening speed, the thing raced towards it, seemingly intent on getting back inside.

"Alright ugly, COME AT ME", Stan roared.

With surprising agility, he jumped up and climbed onto the roof of the house. Thankfully, it seemed that he had caught the Strandulum's attention, as it latched its disgusting tentacles onto the roof and climbed up after him.

"That's right, come on", Stan said.

The thing pounced at him with great speed, forcing him to run backwards across the roof, hacking off tentacles and limbs as he went. The monster's many sets of teeth all snapped hungrily as black drool poured out of them. Soon they had worked their way round to the front of the house, fighting in front of the Mystery Shack sign.

Stan was tiring quickly, his age finally catching up with him. At long last, the irritated creature managed to grab his axe and tear it out of his hand, throwing it off the roof. It wrapped several of its tentacles tightly around Stan and began to squeeze hard. Stan let out a scream of pain, which was almost immediately silenced when the Strandulum tightened its grip, suffocating him. Slowly, his vision began to darken as the life was squeezed out of him. What a way to go, Stan thought to himself. As he began to fade, he silently begged Ford to kill the monster before it could harm the kids.

"HEY, YOU", someone cried out.

Suddenly, the monster released its grasp on Stan, dropping him. Stan heaved for breath, his vision slowly returning to focus. The creature had turned to face the source of the noise. There, stood on the roof, was Ford, dressed in a rubber suit, an enormous metal rod in his hands connected to a long, thick metal wire.

"GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER", Ford bellowed.

As the creature began to charge towards Ford, he flipped a switch on the rod's handle, and an enormous beam of electricity fired out of its end. The beam struck the Strandulum dead centre, and the monster shrieked in agony, writhing about on the roof. Slowly, it began to expand, swelling up until it looked like some kind of slimy black balloon. With one final howl of pain, the monster exploded, sending the purple goop that was its blood flying everywhere. Bits and pieces of the nightmarish creature rained down across the shack. Ford switched off the rod and dropped it on the roof as he doubled over, clutching his legs as he breathed hard. Meanwhile, Stan was just about recovering from his crushing, and slowly, painfully got to his feet. His ribs felt god-awful, but he didn't think anything was broken.

Slowly he hobbled over to his panting brother and placed a hand on his shoulder to support himself as he likewise leaned forward to gasp for breath.

"Well", Ford said, "we just blew up a monster".

"Yep, sure did", Stan said. "And now we're covered in it", he added, noting that his entire body was covered in the oozing slime.

"It's a shame", Ford said. "Dipper and I spent hours catching that thing".

"Just promise me that you'll never, ever, ever bring one of those revolting things anywhere near the Shack ever again", Stan said.

"Gladly", Ford replied.

With that, the two brothers burst out into uncontrollable nervous laughter.

"Hey. You saved my life just now", Stan said. "Thanks for that".

"Don't mention it", Ford said.

"High six?" Stan said, raising his hand up.

"High six", Ford chuckled, slamming his hand into his brother's.

* * *

A short while later, they found themselves sitting back in the kitchen, drinking a few more beers to calm their nerves again and finishing off the last few slices of cake.

"Just what the heck was that thing you used on it, anyway?" Stan said.

"The lightning cannon", Ford said. "I invented it a long time ago for certain laboratory purposes. I plugged it in and used the lab generator to power it. Thankfully, it still worked. I wasn't sure that it would, after all this time".

"So you're saying both of us could have very easily been monster chow back there?"

"Basically, yes", Ford said, and both of them laughed.

"You know what Sixer", Stan said, "at the start of the night, I was actually kinda dreading this".

"Really?" Ford said.

"Yeah, I mean come on, we've barely talked in forty years, thirty of which we weren't even in the same universe. This was a big deal to me, and I was afraid that it'd go badly, or I'd screw it up or somethin'. Just don't tell the kids I said that, okay? I don't want 'em to think I've gone soft or anything like that".

"My lips are sealed", Ford chuckled. "But you haven't gone soft. I was dreading it too, truth be told. Like you said, it was a big deal. But I think… It looks like we may have made some real progress".

"Ahh, don't put it like that", Stan said, "we made great progress. I mean sure, maybe not all the damage is repaired, but look, we're talking to each other and actually enjoyin' it for once. Plus, you did save my life tonight, so there's that. So here's to us", he said, raising his can.

"To us", Ford said, smiling warmly as he tapped his can into Stan's. "And Stan. About those thirty birthdays. I'm sorry that they caused you as much pain as they did, and, I should probably tell you that while I was gone, I… I never actually thought much about our birthday. I probably should have given it more attention".

"Eh, it's alright, I'm sure you had far more important things to worry about", Stan said.

He divided the last piece of cake in two.

"Now let's finish this thing off. For the last thirty birthdays we missed, and the next thirty comin'."

"You think us old geezers can make it another thirty years?" Ford said as he took his piece of the cake.

"Who can say for sure", Stan said. "All I know is, it's worth a try", he laughed.

"I suppose it is", Ford said jovially, and together, the two of them finished off the last two pieces of cake. "And you know what", he added. "That cake was so good, it may as well have been thirty years' worth".

"Yep", Stan said, "I wouldn't have expected anything less from Mabel".

"I'm glad to be back on good terms with you again, knucklehead", Ford said.

"You too, you big nerd", Stan said.

And then, without warning, the two of them both gave into the exhaustion of the fight and the effects of the beer, collapsing on the table and falling deeply asleep.

* * *

Mabel awoke the next morning feeling cramped and squished. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was still lying under a blanket on the living room armchair, Dipper beside her. Waddles had joined them in the night, lying across the two of them.

"Huh, I guess we fell asleep watching TV", Mabel said.

Picking up Waddles, she dislodged herself from beside her twin brother and got up, stretching all of her limbs and her back.

"Ow", she said as aches and pains came and went.

Being squished into a chair all night did not result in comfort, as it turned out. Slowly, Dipper began to stir too. He looked around himself, noticing where they were.

"Remind me to never fall asleep in an armchair ever again", he grumbled as he massaged a crick in his neck.

"I hope it went well with Stan and Ford last night", Mabel said hopefully.

"Only one way to find out I guess", Dipper said as he got up, stretching his arms and legs.

The twins, along with Waddles, made their way towards the kitchen for breakfast. Upon pushing it open, however, they saw that Stan and Ford were lying face down on the table, empty cans strewn all about them and a now cake-less plate sitting in the middle of the table.

"Looks like it went well", Dipper said.

"MORNING, GRUNKLES", Mabel yelled enthusiastically, excited to hear the results of last night.

Stan and Ford both awoke with a groan, but neither lifted their head or opened their eyes.

"So, how did it go?" Dipper inquired as he went to get some cereal for himself.

Stan and Ford both gave a thumbs up before letting their arms flop back down again. Mabel practically screamed with joy and began to run triumphantly around the room. Stan and Ford groaned in pain at the sound of her cheering, placing their hands over their ears.

"Stanley", Ford mumbled, still not lifting his head off the table.

"Yeah?" Stan said.

"Remind me to never drink ever again".

"You said it", Stan agreed, and despite their deeply hungover state, they both managed a groggy laugh.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading. This was a lot of fun to write. Partial inspiration for this story was derived from a piece on Deviantart called "Candle" by Demona-Silverwing.  
**


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